Laundry Day
by NizumiIsACookie0.0
Summary: Gaara never had done the laundry, but Temari and Kankuro had gone away and left him a note to do it. Certainly Gaara didn't want to disappoint them.


**Disclaimer: **Gaara and the other characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

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><p><strong>Laundry Day<strong>

Slowly the Kazekage opened his turquoise eyes. Ever since Chiyo, Naruto and his team brought him back to life he enjoyed every single night with sleep. He hadn't slept ever before that - except for accidents. But thanks to Naruto - as usually in this ninja world - Gaara now could enjoy his beauty sleep - not that he needed it.

He got up, looking out of the window. It was a peaceful scene which promised a comfortable day.

After a sand shower and getting dressed, he went downstairs into the kitchen. On the table he found a note in scrawly handwriting, saying that Kankuro and Temari went out of the Village and that they would be back in the evening or at night. Gaara sighed quietly, but was rather happy to be alone. He went over to the cookie jar and stuffed his mouth with the content. Yummy! Temari was always complaining that he should eat veggies and meat instead of cookies, but now she was gone and he could eat as much as he liked! Happily, and with a creepy grin, he stuffed and stuffed and stuffed until the gagging reflex told him that is was time to stop. He laid down on the table glancing out of the opened window. The note that Kankuro had written flew right into his face. He took it and held it a few centimeters off.

_P.S.: Today is laundry day. Please do the laundry. _

That was Temari's handwriting. Shoot! Within the blink of an eye the Kazekage sat up, his cookie tum gone. He never had done the laundry; what was Temari expecting from him? He only could rule the whole Sand Village, but he couldn't do the laundry! That was impossible. With fast steps he went into the laundry room that they had. The dirty clothes rested quietly in a box, waiting patiently for Gaara to start.

_What can be so difficult when doing the laundry? _it went through his head. It wasn't likely for the world to end if he did.

With a new breath and some soap, Gaara put some clothes into the washing machine. Carefully he placed the soap on top of the pile of fabric, then closed the circled door. Munching on a cookie, he looked for the start button, which he found. With a light tap he pressed the _START_ button, making the machine scream.

He had no idea how long it would take for the washing machine to be done, so he pulled by a chair and his beloved cookie jar. He gazed at the circling fabric and water of the machine making its progress. He sighed; this was getting boring. He'd rather watch some ridiculous shows on T.V. such as _What grain of sand do you pick Today? _

Nevertheless, his siblings were counting on him. He couldn't just disappoint them. He wanted to be like Uzumaki Naruto - even that hero of morons was washing his clothes once in a while.

After a few spins of the water splashing inside the machine, it got pretty boring.

Gaara used to be one of the most feared people in the world and he had to do the laundry? Pretty unbelievable, but time had changed a few things. He had died and was revived. He had become the Kazekage of the Village of the Sand - that was impressive. He never had eyebrows and was skinny with thousands of cookies in his tum. Perhaps, there was something wrong with him? Yet what could possibly be wrong with a young, handsome man who wore fire red hair just fine and had a mark surrounding his eyes that looked like eyeliner? And on top of that a tattoo that said _love_?

He took his cookie jar and went back to the kitchen to fill it up. He knew where Temari hid all the yummy sweets, so it was not hard to find. With his boredom he stuffed in a few more cookies, then went in his office to glance at some paperwork. He had most of his work done, and so he went back into the kitchen, taking the milk and drinking it from the carton. They also could buy milk in bottles, but Gaara preferred cartons; it was easier to drink from them and it could be a sexy picture when some milk would mischievously run down on the side of his mouth, down to his jaw.

Sighing he looked at the milk carton, wiping with his sleeve the trail of milk from his face. _Fat 2%_. It wasn't that he needed a diet, but he made sure to stay in shape, or perhaps the reason was that Temari wanted him to watch what he ate and drank. Storing the milk back and closing the fridge, he went back into his room, and diving under his warm blanket. With a cookie remaining on his lips, he returned to the wonderful dreamland of merry thoughts. Ever since he could sleep peacefully, he did it as often as possible.

And so he slept through the day, and ignored Temari's nagging and scolding later as she saw her best clothes sticking together with soap and a few crumbles of Gaara's favourite cookies.


End file.
